


going out, i'm getting a latte

by staraesque



Category: Ace Attorney, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Phoenix Wright, College Student Miles Edgeworth, College Student Phoenix Wright, Fluff, London Fog, M/M, Minor Maya Fey/Franziska von Karma, Narumitsu - Freeform, Oneshot, Pining, Pls kill me, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23343826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staraesque/pseuds/staraesque
Summary: The barista turned around suddenly, and Miles' eyes widened. He felt his face getting warm.Why was he so...Pretty? Attractive? Miles felt his cheeks getting redder by the minute. The barista was looking at him with a confused, if not amused, expression, which made Miles even more flustered and incoherent. Clearing his throat again, he looked away from the other man's face, embarrassment engulfing his entire being. The former grinned and pulled out his earphones, leaning slightly over the counter."May I take your order?"
Relationships: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 12
Kudos: 182





	going out, i'm getting a latte

**Author's Note:**

> wow a narumitsu cafe fic? + my first fic on this site? nice  
> i feel like narumitsu as college students and going to cafes are very underrated so (´･ᴗ･ ` )  
> impromptu fic  
> inspired by mimocha <3  
> enjoy!  
> \- lulu ☆

The cold Japanifornian weather had been floating around for weeks now, even though it was already March and the days stretched on for longer than usual. The sky had stayed a dense grey instead of the usual March maya blue, and rain often followed the weekends.

It was London fog, to put it bluntly.

It wasn't the best weather to be out and about in, but it was tolerable. Miles Edgeworth thought so, anyway, as he walked briskly down the concrete sidewalk, a laptop and a book in his arms. The sky was a flat, dim off-white; trademarking 10 AM of the day. He intended to finish his report on 𝘕𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 by today; although he had already finished most of the report itself, he had frustratingly gotten stuck on the conclusion, and he hoped he could find a suitable atmosphere to finish the assignment. He let his legs lead him on autopilot, thinking about everything that had happened recently.

Franziska had told him to get out more; his body was "becoming unfit", in her words, and he should take more walks. She had sounded much like an overbearing mother, but Miles didn't mind. That is, until she brandished her whip nonchalantly while wondering aloud what she could do in her spare time while Miles was around. Miles, quick on the uptake, ducked out of the whip's reach and finally listened to her advice (read: threats) to go outside.

Maya Fey, Franziska's girlfriend, visited to check up on him per his sister's request. She told him the same thing, and thoughtfully added that "handsome guys" worked at the coffee shop down the block. A rather mischievous trick on her part, if you asked him, but that was not the reason he was visiting the cafe.

Not the sole reason, anyway.

He stopped in front of a modest, rather snug cafe, surrounded with plant boxes and flower pots. The exterior walls were a handsome mahogany, the door multi-paneled. An easel-type chalkboard sat out front, beckoning potential customers. "London Fog" was written on it in white chalk, splashes of blue swirling around the elaborate cursive. Ironic, Miles thought, smirking slightly.

A handsome drawing of a young man with a cup of coffee in his hands was positioned underneath the text. It was quite charming, Miles thought, squinting at it. Even though it was a hasty sketch, it looked very intricate and detailed, and he knew from experience that chalk was not the best medium. He stared at it, impressed.

The tinkle of wind chimes startled him, and he looked up to see two young women chatting happily with each other, leaving the cafe. They were both wearing berets, and one of them had a heavy French accent. One of them caught Miles' eye. She followed his gaze and smirked, pulling the other girl to hurry along. The French girl whispered something that sounded like "Ça lui ressemble" to the brunette, and her eyes widened as she laughed, nodding. They ran off in the opposite direction, leaving Miles to wonder what it meant.

"𝘐𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮." He cast the drawing one last furtive glance, then headed in the cafe.

The bells chimed merrily once more as he stepped in, scanning his surroundings. The interior was lit with yellow hanging lamps, giving it a warm, inside-during-winter feel. The distinct scent of brown coffee wafted in the air, relaxing Miles as he noticed the details of the shop. Customers sat here and there on low sofas, with small coffee tables in between each booth. Soft jazz music played from hidden speakers. The atmosphere was very welcoming indeed.

A spiky-haired figure worked at the counter, back turned. He seemed to be cleaning out a blender, and as Miles looked on, he noticed the blue wire trailing from the barista's pockets up to his ears. Impulsively, Miles wondered what he could be listening to. Shaking his head to clear off the thought, he stepped up to the counter, clearing his throat to get the other man's attention.

The barista turned around suddenly, and Miles' eyes widened. He felt his face getting warm.

𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰...

Pretty? Attractive? Miles felt his cheeks getting redder by the minute. The barista was looking at him with a confused, if not amused, expression, which made Miles even more flustered and incoherent. Clearing his throat again, he looked away from the other man's face, embarrassment engulfing his entire being. The former grinned and pulled out his earphones, leaning slightly over the counter.

"May I take your order?"

"Earl grey latte, please."

At least his voice sounded normal. The barista was watching him carefully, probably wondering if he was mentally ill. God, he probably was. He shied away from the barista's gaze, trying to get him to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.

"Name?"

The other man was now holding a paper cup emblazoned with the words "London Fog" and a black Sharpie, eyebrows raised in question.

"Miles," Miles responded, heart somewhere in his throat. What was 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 with him today? The barista smirked, and Miles' breath caught, trying to relax himself. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

"Miles," the other man repeats, drawn-out, as he scribbles each letter on the cup. He looked back up, and his eyes twinkled. Miles tried not to notice how one of his eyes was a warm caramel and the other electric blue. It was fascinating, how the colors were so distinct yet shifted so it was hard to focus on.

Miles watched the barista's movements, interest increasing with every action. His nametag read "Phoenix", and Miles thought that was a fitting name for him, given the hairdo. He decided to make small talk, because it seemed his order would take longer than usual.

"So, er, Phoenix," Miles said, in a tone that he hoped would pass for nonchalant and uncaring, when really his head was yelling at him to 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺, "who drew that sign outside?"

"Hm? Oh, that would be me. Phoenix Wright, at your service," the barista boasted, accidentally dropping the Sharpie as he puffed out his chest. He ducked under the counter to grab it, and when he popped back up, he noticed Miles was stifling a laugh.

Grinning sheepishly, he continued, "I do most of the art for this cafe. This is just a side job, though; just to pay college debt." He hesitated before asking, "You're in college...right?"

Miles nodded, surprised. Phoenix actually looked like a college student, unlike him; underneath the black apron, he's wearing a rumpled light blue tee, denim jeans, and a belt looped around his waist.

Not that Miles was looking anywhere near his waist.

"How much did that outfit cost?" the other man asked devilishly, scanning the former's turtleneck and slacks as he rung up the order on the register. "Looks way too Gucci for a customer here. Er, no offense."

"The turtleneck was a gift from my sister," Miles said in reply, trying to come off as smooth. "Your art is wunderbar, as the Germans would say."

"Ah, so you're German?" Phoenix prodded, dropping a teabag in a flask full of hot water.

"Lived in Germany. My relatives are German."

"That's...interesting."

They stood there in silence, and Phoenix quickly excused himself to go finish up Miles' order. Miles fished his phone out of his pocket, checking for any new messages which were hopefully distracting enough to take his mind off Phoenix. Fortunately, he had three. He scanned through them quickly; the first was Franziska warning him about bad weather, the second was a text from his service provider asking him to indulge in one of their newest deals, and the third was Klavier Gavin, an classmate of his, asking him about a group project. 

He grumbled in distaste, shoving the device back in his pocket and drumming his fingers against the marble counter. Phoenix was still working on his drink, humming merrily as he stirred the blend, pouring it in the paper cup. It was fascinating how he can make it look professional, simply blending tea for some customer.

"Here you go," Phoenix said with a flourish, placing the cup down on the counter in front of Miles. The former squinted at the little screen on the cash register. "Your payment is...$2.95."

Miles handed three crisp dollar bills to the other man, then sauntered off, cup in hand, towards a corner table, where he could work in peace. He opened his laptop - 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 - and began working, picking up his copy of the book at times and scanning it. The latte in his cup slowly decreased as the hours ticked by. More and more customers entered the shop while he typed ending marks to sentences.

Finally, he was done. Exhaling in relief, he threw a glance at the right-hand corner of the screen. It was 1 PM - which seemed early to be finished, but he wasn't complaining. He sipped at the last of his cup, surprised when he saw it was empty. He was about to set it down to clear up when his finger caught on a groove on the cup.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦...

He looked closely at the cup. There was a piece of paper forming a ring around it, its width the size of Miles' thumb. Curious, he looked for a tear in the paper to unravel it, and carefully peeled it off.

A series of numbers, followed by a dash, and punctuated by a tiny drawing.

He recognized the first message as a phone number. The drawing was of someone with spiky hair, and an mischievous smirk.

He looked up impulsively at the counter. Phoenix was tending to a customer, but he caught Miles' eye and winked surreptitiously. Miles felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment; he folded up the paper carefully and tucked it in his pocket. He stood up, cleared the table, and tried not to make eye contact with the barista on his way out.

* * *

Miles stayed up that night, after he had made sure Franziska had gone to sleep and wouldn't wake up until morning. He opened his "Contacts" app and added a number, face red. Uncertain, he started writing a text, hoping maybe the barista had forgotten him.

* * *

You: Hey. It's Miles.

* * *

Miles stared at the green bubble that had just popped up, and was even more surprised when the words "read 9:47 PM" appeared below it.

* * *

𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: hey!

𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: so you took the time to add my number, heh

You: I can also remove it with that attitude.

𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: no pls don;t i'm sorry

You: Charming.

* * *

Miles quickly labeled the new number as "Phoenix" before the next notification popped up.

* * *

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: so why'd u add me?

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: did you think i was cute? ;)

You: I added you because I was interested.

You: And I doubt that emoticon is necessary.

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: haha, a yes then?

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: aw don't leave me on read miles

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: i'm sorry sdjsjdsj

* * *

In a haze, suddenly remembering Phoenix's face, Miles' fingers flew rapidly over the mobile keyboard.

* * *

You: Do you want to go out?

* * *

Miles stared at the most recent message. This felt so weirdly alien. Apparently, Phoenix agreed, but in a different context altogether.

* * *

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: typing...

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: i

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: i did not expect that to happen so fast

You: Haha, a yes then?

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: omg ur teasing me

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: fskdnsjsd yes ofc

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱: the plaza at 10?

You: Sure.  
𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 10:03 𝘗𝘔

* * *

The next week, after continuous rendezvous with Phoenix, Miles woke up immediately; he was to meet the former at 5 PM and yet he couldn't stop feeling so jittery. At 10 AM, Franziska poked her head out of her room to observe Miles in the kitchen filling a glass of water with more force than she would have liked; she was more than curious as to why he was heading off so early.

"What is the occasion, Miles Edgeworth?" Franziska said sleepily, cross. "Are you heeding my advice to go out more? I would expect less from a foolish, gullible fool like you."

Miles glared at his sister, tapping his foot impatiently. He had made a real effort today in dressing up; today's outfit consisted of a maroon collared shirt, another pair of crisp black slacks, and his glasses. The glasses made him feel older, which he needed the reassurance of today. "I'm simply being a good brother following good advice, Franziska," he muttered through gritted teeth, glance flicking over the wall clock. Why exactly was time so slow? He could be in Central Park, scowling as Phoenix pushed him to buy them both ice cream cones. (For the record, two pints of Chunky Monkey were not good for a particular barista's stomach.) He could be back in London Fog, finding excuses to watch Phoenix carry himself with an easygoing grin and a sort of endearing grace.

Waiting. How unproductive.

He glared back at Franziska. "Go back to sleep if you're just going to look at me like that." He started drinking the water hurriedly.

"Are you seeing someone, Miles Edgeworth?"

Miles spit out the water in his mouth, nearly dropping the glass. A satisfied, smug look crossed Franziska's face as she swept back in her room.

"That answered my question. Good luck on your... date, little brother." She smirked, closing the door.

Frustrated, he wiped off the water on his chin and toweled off his hands. He flopped down on the couch, closing his eyes in annoyance.

He could always just watch reruns of Steel Samurai to kill time.

* * *

When it came time to 4 PM, Miles left the flat, hurriedly apologizing to Franziska for "making such a foolishly loud racket".

He hailed a cab; he felt much too jittery to walk all the way down to Kaiyoi Bay. The driver wore a green coat in tatters, and didn't say much except for "See ya around, pal" as Miles shut the door behind him.

For 4 PM, Kaiyoi Bay wasn't crowded, which was something Miles fully appreciated. Social judgment was a wee bit - dare he say it - unconventional. He found it slightly uncomfortable, especially if it was about him.

The water glittered a deep blue, the sun just about starting to sink. The sky, gray and unwelcoming in the morning, was now a less offensive shade and whatever passed for blue in March. The sand was golden under the sunlight, and a figure in blue sat on the shore, hand briefly dipping in the water as the tide rose and fell.

Miles was behind Phoenix when the latter turned around to greet him, two cups in hand. Miles laughed softly as he knelt down next to the other man on the sand.

"Regular coffee for me and your latte for you," he answered briefly, the smile illuminating his face again. God, Miles could just stare at him all day.

Phoenix looked rather tired, Miles realized. Even with his handsome face, his eyes looked more weary than usual, and the beginnings of dark rings lay on his cheekbones.

"Did you get enough sleep?" The question was out of Miles' mouth before he realizes. Phoenix, however, looked unsurprised.

"No." He took a swig of the coffee, not meeting Miles' eyes.

"Then why didn't you-"

"Thinking about you."

Miles sat there in stunned silence, watching the other man drink silently. When the latter put the cup down, half empty, Miles found his voice.

"Me?" Why did he sound so 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳?

Phoenix laughed, finally making eye contact with Miles. "Yeah, you. Your bangs are adorable. And your glasses make you look...more mature, in a way." He said that all in a rush, like he's going to get caught if he took his time. He brushed Miles' bangs out of the way of his face, grinning bashfully. His cheeks were tinted pink, and Miles felt something take over him.

Miles leaned in, careful, giving Phoenix the reaction time he needed. He was surprised, however, when the tables turned and Phoenix met him first.

The kiss was everything Miles could have experienced.

It was the feeling of comfort food, the glow of a new sunrise, the scent of a vineyard.

Miles was the first to pull away, the two of them breathless. Miles leant towards the ground; his emotions were a jumble.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺?

"You taste like coffee," he breathed, then immediately realizing what he had just said.

𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 stupid.

Phoenix laughed - the sound was genuine and sincere. The sunset flashed at them briefly, the sky a streak of orange and pink. 

"Do you know what you taste like, Miles?" His tone was teasing, but his expression prompted Miles to ask.

"What?"

Phoenix brushed his nose against Miles', grinning stupidly. "You taste like heaven," he said simply, before leaning in again.

His latte sat there, untouched, but Miles hadn't a care.

**Author's Note:**

> \- the end -  
> i hope you enjoyed the fic! criticism is welcome considering this is my first jdskdj  
> miles is so awkward and i feel like i rushed this fic? which i did LO but i hope it was still a good read  
> tysm for reading!
> 
> [characters are not mine!]  
> \- lulu ☆


End file.
